Law of the Jungle
by Spake
Summary: In the face of infinite possibilities, the ridiculously improbable becomes inevitable- with Frank Fontaine incapacitated before his machinations come to fruition and a tiny quirk of Andrew Ryan's personality magnified- a combination of factors gives Booker a way out of debt that doesn't involve bargaining- a way where Booker adopts a new identity: Nick Wilde.
1. Chapter 1

Andrew Ryan gazed out of the glass of his office at the crowded seabed before him- the moment a luxury to be sure but hadn't he earned it? Ultimately everything he saw beyond the sea itself was a product of his labor and ambition in some way- he had a right to take a moment and view his kingdom. The speaker on his desk beeped- "Mr. Ryan, Dr. Suchong is here to see you." Andrew turned, "Inform him he will be billed personally for every minute of this supposed-to-be unnecessary meeting and send him in."

The heavy wooden doors opened automatically as the Korean doctor made his way in. "You requested Suchong?" he inquired, approaching the stately desk as Ryan sat down behind it. "Only because it seems I needed to; you are aware that my request is already six months overdue, correct?" Andrew asked accusingly, looking the doctor in the eye. "Yes yes of course- Suchong knows that- and Suchong knows the contract terms- but there are projects more valuable than the penalty…." Suchong was interrupted by Andrew, "I truly doubt your pet projects are more valuable than the projects that keep you off the street- and I doubt you have another contract you need to be focusing on considering Fontaine's stroke has removed him from the picture."

Dr. Suchong recalled hearing the news of how half of his profitable contracts suddenly were imperiled when a sudden stroke incapacitated Frank Fontaine; it was not a very good memory- and although Frank was replaced- his replacement had none of the ambition that Frank had in regards to genetic research. With that, Andrew Ryan became his primary client, and with that came the need to please the egotistical man. He sighed as he said "Suchong will make sure your 'Animal Magnetism' tonic is available by next month- if you wish it in writing Suchong will do so." To be honest, he felt that the concept was idiotic- why fix the side effect of plasmids with bestial features when more traditional beauty could be used- but Ryan had specified what he wanted in the contract and so by the contract he will go. Besides, although on the rare occasion that the reasoning was discussed Ryan said animalistic forms better masked the mental side effects of ADAM consumption- after all bestial actions from beasts could almost be regarded as quaint- Suchong noticed Andrew Ryan's odd attachment to the 'Ryan the Lion' character and couldn't help but think there was an ulterior motive.

"Get it to me in writing before the end of the week." was all Andrew Ryan replied with to that. "You would do well to remember who pays for your research doctor, a doctor too poor to afford the tools of the trade is a poor doctor indeed. You may go, confirm your bill with the receptionist on the way out." Dr. Suchong turned and left as Andrew watched him- it was an odd thing admittedly to turn men into animal-like beings- but it had always held a sort of fascination with him- he had long regarded himself as a lion- why shouldn't the world bear witness to it in its literal form? It was a luxury, but like the view, he had earned it.

* * *

Booker DeWitt stared at the advertisements in the shop window- "Embrace your wild side with Ryan Industries' Animal Magnetism! Shed that flawed skin of yours for a new form! Take a new identity on your OWN terms!" A new identity- just what the doctor ordered- who knew that a few gambling debts and a few failed cases could lead up to this point? Booker did- but this time no one had come to his door with a devil's bargain. With the last of his cash on him Booker entered the store, and on a monitor hung from the ceiling there was Andrew Ryan, now "Ryan the Lion" touting the virtues of the tonic- how he felt ten times stronger, had more personal courage than ever before- how he was more virile than any mundane human male was- and Booker just rolled his eyes- he has sure most of it was hype, but, well, he needed a new skin, and what Ryan Industries was offering was just that.

Booker looked over the shelves of Animal Magnetism and saw there were plenty of species to choose from- apparently it wasn't hard to make different varieties once the base formula had been perfected. There was even a sign saying to ask a shop clerk about placing an order for a custom version if none of the mass produced ones were to your liking. From what he could see though- there was one species that caught his eye- the fox. Notoriously sly, stealthy, a reputation for cunning and supposedly great night vision- all would be very useful for a Private Investigator- really it was hardly much of a choice when it was this obvious. Booker grabbed the fox-emblazoned tonic and brought it to a cash register. "Alright, one Vulpine Magnetism, please do be sure to read the warnings and instructions- you do NOT inject this variety OK?" with a cheery tone and smile the well-trained clerk took the last of Booker's money and sent him on his way with a new chance at life.

Booker sighed, knowing that he couldn't really go back to his office given it had his name on it and they would be looking for him there- so he decided to go to a more unsavory part of Rapture- a part where a guy can find some privacy in the pipework. Putting the tonic in his bag beside his pistol, some ammo, a bottle of bourbon, a pack of cigs, and what clothes he could fit- he proceeded on.

The glitz of Rapture was really only restricted to the shopping and leisure areas- and the luxury residents if you were those types- beyond that the adornments, if there were any, became much more spartan. That was fine with Booker though- he never did much like pretension. Eventually he reached a section of the underwater city that wasn't quite a slum- but was heading there- and was full of nooks and crannies for him to hide in for a bit. It didn't take much searching to come across an ideal one, squeezed between two homes, around a corner and leading to a dead end. "Here's the place" thought Booker, "here's the place where Booker gets replaced- ah well, let's get on with it." He pulled out the tonic and popped it open like an expert, and with zero fanfare proceeded to guzzle it.

As the last drop headed down his throat he felt it, as if something was surfacing from his core to the surface of his skin, overwhelming him. He bent over and gasped as suddenly orange fur began to force its way out of his skin, painting him for all to see as his spine elongated from his rear. Having not read the instructions, Booker hadn't considered removing his clothes before his transformation, and so his pants were ruined as the fabric was ripped by the strong rapidly-growing bone and muscle. His face began to elongate too, forming into a point even as his nose flattened and darkened to resemble a fox's, as his ears migrated to the top of his head and grew to form triangles. He was pleased though to see that his hands remained hands, albeit furry hands- as a gun would be rather hard to handle with a paw- but he could feel his feet morph a bit within his shoes- with only luck's providence preventing them from being ruined too.

As his change finished, he felt absolutely famished and exhausted- the transformation having taken all of his available energy to manifest, and for the first time he felt his new tail move- a very odd sensation. He straightened up his stance and began to undo his tattered pants, sighing in frustration as he got them off and replaced them with a pair from his bag. So he was a fox now- utterly unrecognizable- perfect… now he needs a new name though- Booker DeWitt was wanted. Hmm… a false name… replacement name… nick name…. Nick… Nicholas! Alright so the first name would be Nicholas, and the surname would be… hmm… animal… feral… wild… Wilde! He would be Nick Wilde from now on, new fox, new private investigator.

Nick grabbed his things and headed back the way he came, but as he turned the corner he heard bickering voices- a female remarking "Late? How could it possibly be possible for one to be late when one travels through time?" and a genteel man responding "Well such is always possible- are you implying something is impossible? Honestly sister you are smarter than that. Quite simply we are late because here we were always late, elsewhere perhaps we would be early." Walking slowly towards the exit of the alley Nick heard the voices continue, "Just because I am 'smarter than that' doesn't mean I can't be surprised- I mean who could have predicted wrapping up DeWitt-Comstock would be like a Big Crunch- only resulting in a new Big Bang of quantum probabilities and possibilities similar to but not quite the same as before?"

Nick cautiously exited the alley, keeping an eye out for the two speakers who he assumed were just ADAM-headed- even though one had mentioned his name- when he locked eyes with them- both of them in matching proper attire and staring at him with mouths slightly agape. Quickly, the female regained her composure, "Well, as I said, I can still be surprised- I believe Mr. DeWitt has found a unique solution to his problems…" the male continuing her phrase "...but I am not sure if it is better or worse than what we were going to offer." Nick looked rather dismayed, his ears slinking down, already he had been recognized- the exact opposite of what he was hoping for- but perhaps if he is polite he could ask what gave it away. Putting on an amicable smile he approached them, "Hello, clearly I am not fooling anyone- and considering things I would like to know why- and also who you two are."

The two, now clearly twins, chuckled, as the woman says "I am Rosalind Lutece and this is my brother, Robert, we have met before…" Suddenly a memory crashed through Nick's head- a baby- an old life- a deal made in the shadows- how could he forget these people? "You… bastards… how… how are you even here? How did you find me?" Nick couldn't help but snarl, him taking to his new bestial form well. "Well we were going to offer another deal… you do seem to get into debt quite a bit…" remarked Robert, "but I can see that you have decided to try and outfox those you owe money to." Nick felt a desire to shoot them both, but his rational mind told him to save his bullets for business. "But don't worry" Rosalind interjected, "the only reason we know that you are you is because we were tracking you already- otherwise there is not a trace on that orange body of the old Booker DeWitt." Robert leaned over to her and whispered "Do you think this new batch of timelines will have him choose between being baptized in fur in addition to the earlier water choice or-" Rosalind shushed him rebukingly.

Nick was simultaneously relieved and alarmed, relieved that only they would know the connection between Booker DeWitt and Nick Wilde but alarmed that he could be followed without him noticing. "Well I don't need whatever you're offering now- and you probably want a virgin's still-beating heart or something for it anyway- but hey it's Rapture I'm sure you can find a seller somewhere." Nick turned away from the two as Rosalind commented, "That doesn't really sound like the Booker we are used to- maybe it's the tonic talking- or are you just trying to adopt new mannerisms to complete the illusion?" Nick stopped and shrugged, "Maybe both, maybe one, maybe none- regardless I'm not dealing with you two anymore." With that he headed on his way, bag over his shoulder and past hopefully behind him. "Do you want to see where this is heading?" asked Robert to his sister, "Oh yes! Definitely! The last set of timelines ended so drearily; I could use some time watching a man who thinks pretending to be a fox will solve all his problems." and with that, they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

The particular district Nick was wandering in was called Copper Fields- although considering the space and location Nick doubted it truly had any fields- perhaps the namer was just a Dickens fan. The streets were made of sea floor that had been extracted during the construction of Rapture and the actual structure was composed almost entirely of cheap metal. Considering he wasn't likely to pull a job in the next hour and considering he was starving and tired- Nick felt that unfortunately he would have to rely on charity. Luckily the lower class neighborhoods were often more giving than the upper class ones- perhaps because most in the lower class neighborhoods knew that one day they too may have to rely on charity to survive. Fontaine's Homes for the Poor still existed, even if they were languishing without the attention of the man himself, but Nick didn't really want to be seen in one- using one almost felt like declaring an affiliation- an irrational feeling considering Frank Fontaine's status but still one he couldn't shake.

What Nick was hoping for was a bar, some place public where he can tell a hard-luck story and maybe get a meal. Now that wasn't hard to find, as eventually he came across a dive called "The Drunk & Sunk". He entered and surveyed the room; it was fairly standard fare- bars, tables, people- and really it was the people that mattered most. One thing he realized though was he stood out like a sore thumb- with few exceptions he was the only animal among them- and he realized his furry little change might come across to some as a measure of luxury. With his original plan falling apart in his head he saw some people playing poker in the corner and felt saved- even if what he was going to have to do was unconventional.

He headed over and nodded "Hello, mind if I join you?" the other players shrugged and one motioned for him to pull up a seat. "Now I don't have any cash but-" the motion suddenly shifted into a 'stop' gesture, "what are you doing trying to gamble with no cash?" asked one of the men, bearing a respectable beard, "you clearly have money if you look like that!" Nick forced out a chuckle and said "Relax… I'm just a little short on the liquid stuff… but if someone was willing to front me some I might provide some liquid stuff in kind…" Nick tilted his bag to show them the bottle of bourbon- inadvertently also showing his gun along with it. "So what you're saying is you're trading booze for money- pretty sure the bartender wouldn't like someone trying to steal his job…" replied the man softly, but suddenly the youngest-looking of them blurted out "Hey if you want money, how about you give us a show- drink that bottle and wait… uhh... 20 minutes- if you can throw it in the air and shoot it then I'll give you one hundred dollars then and there!" The former speaker rolled his eyes and sighed, "Pardon him, he's drunk and stupid and he's been winning all night- but if you want to take him up on his offer he does keep his word."

One hundred dollars would make things a hell of a lot easier- and the bottle wasn't that full- besides he's been downing bottles like it for years already- it probably wouldn't even affect him that much… Nick considered the intensely tempting offer of drinking one of his very few remaining possessions. Ultimately he agreed, "I'll do it… but before I do just be warned by that time I'll be drunk enough to shoot you if you try to stiff me." The youngster chuckled and nodded his head as he raised his own drink, "Cheers then hmm?" and so Nick reached into his bag and opened the bottle, nodding, "Mmhmm…" and he began to drink.

Twenty minutes later, or so the youngster claimed, the man who had a hobby of pickling his liver was stumbling. "I believe you owe us a show good sir!" said the instigator as he patted Nick on the back and lead him out of the bar with a fair crowd of people in tow. "Now just throw the bottle up and show us what a marksman you are." With his eye on the prize, Nick removed the pistol from his bag- it already loaded out of a preference for convenience and speed over safety- as he took the empty bourbon container in his left hand. He heaved it upwards and let it fly as he raised his gun to the sky.

A shot rang out- but there was no shattering of glass- at least not until the bottle hit the ground- for although Booker was a pretty good shot even while drunk- Nick hadn't quite gotten used to how his new hand felt on his weapon- causing his aim to be off. With the crash of failure the youngster simply laughed and headed back inside the bar as the crowd followed suit- less amused and more disappointed- leaving Nick alone. "There goes my meal ticket... and there went my last drink." he thought to himself dolefully- sighing in frustration. He put his gun away and turned around- only to come face to face with a bunny in a dress- or more specifically a woman with Lapine Magnetism.

"So you're desperate enough for cash that you're willing to make a complete fool of yourself huh?" she asked, she slightly shorter than Nick but her ears giving her a bit of an illusion of height. The fox just stared for a second before slurring, "I really jus' needed a bit to eat and a place to sleep… cash was just a way to get that…" The rabbit looked over the drunkard skeptically, before sighing and saying, "Come with me…" Nick was in no condition to turn away any offer of assistance at this point- and bourbon does not a meal make- so he obediently followed the woman away from the bar.

Nick couldn't really tell how far they had gone but eventually they reached a door. The rabbit pulled out a keyring from a sewn-on pocket of her dress and began to undo the locks before pushing the door open. It revealed a small living room with kitchenette, with a tiny bedroom and even smaller bathroom to the side. The woman entered with Nick right behind her, and then she turned to him, "So, sober enough for an introduction yet?" she asked. Nick chuckled and replied "Always- just can't guarantee it will be a good one- call me Nick, Nick Wilde." The bunny held out her hand as Nick took it and shook it, "Judy Hopps, nice to meet you Nick." Judy then went towards the kitchenette and began to look through the fridge, "I'll fix you something up- if only to keep you out of trouble- foxes are notoriously shifty after all." she said with a joking tone. Nick with his wits slowed didn't quite catch the jest though, "Wait, hasn't the tonic only been out for a couple months? How did we gain notoriety already?" Judy just laughs at that, "Sit down drunky, you might hurt yourself, it was a joke!"

Nick happily obliged, setting himself down on the small, somewhat frayed couch in the room, watching the rabbit begin to cook. For awhile he was silent, but then he asked "Why are you helping me?" For a second she turned, looking at him, before replying "I don't know, maybe I just think helping others makes you a good person- blasphemy in Rapture I know." Silence returned to the room until Judy piped up, "so how do you come to be a fox with not a penny to your name? You have some bad luck over this last month?" Nick gave a melancholy sigh, "Try bad luck and bad decisions over the past… 37 years." he paused to count them up in his head. The sound of a knife hitting a cutting board joined their conversation as Judy replied "37? Is that your age?" Nick shook his head, "No, 37 years ago was when I joined the Colorado National Guard- the first in many bad decisions that lead me to being a penniless fox."

Another moment, another pause, before Judy stated "Wait, so you must be over fifty years old then…" Nick mustered up a chuckle, "You mean I don't look it? Who knew the secret to looking youthful was to change species." The bunny commented "Just another Rapture genetic miracle- how long have you been a fox anyway?" as she continued to cook, Nick replying after a moment of thought "...maybe four hours perhaps? How long have you been a bunny- and why a bunny anyway?"

Judy put something in the oven- Nick smelled fish so he assumed that- before grabbing a small wooden chair that up to this moment had been set against the wall, her looking at the fox and replying "About a month, and I chose a rabbit because before I worked at the bar I helped my parents out with their hydroponics operation- we grew the best carrots in all of Rapture so I figured why not a bunny? Besides- rabbits are fast, agile, and know to run when trouble starts- useful around here. Oh, and my last name is Hopps- and I thought it would be kind of funny to be a rabbit with the last name Hopps." Judy leaned forward, clasping her hands and resting her head on them, "But if you're asking why I took Lapine Magnetism in the first place, well, just like those guys at the bar barely believed you didn't have money as a fox- people in the prettier parts of the city don't think you're broke if you've grown a tail- even if your clothes look shabby they assume since you afforded a luxury that Andrew Ryan himself has embraced then you must have at least a little class- ironically they treat you more like a person after you've become an animal." The rabbit sounded a bit melancholy as she finished her explanation, her gaze drifting off before returning to look at Nick, "Your turn." she said.

Nick sighed, debating internally between lying and telling his generous host the truth, eventually deciding on a middle path. "What can I say? I lost a bet." He crossed his arms, not elaborating further. "...you lost a single bet and that's why you became a fox with no money? Some bet!" Judy stated incredulously. "Well it was more than one bet… a couple bets… a few…" Nick admitted begrudgingly, "the point is betting was involved." Judy blinked and then said, "So you lost it all and thought becoming a fox could fool anyone who came looking for you right?" her deduction giving her an air of self-satisfaction. Nick just looked at her dumbfounded, "Uhhh… maybe."

Nick's expression was all the confirmation she needed, "Well considering you're broke how do you expect to survive long here considering I can't really house and feed you forever." Nick shrugged, "Well I was hoping to get back into private investigation- maybe after some security work since I have experience in both… it's just that I didn't really have time to line up a job and I was starving so… here we are." At the mention of PI work Judy's face showed renewed interest, "Private investigation? You mean you were a detective?" she asked excitedly.

Nick shrugged again, "Sort of- private detective like every other detective in Rapture but detective."

Judy beamed, "I love detective stories! They're always so thrilling and they always get the bad guy in the end!" she gets up out of her chair and heads over to a crude bookshelf in the corner stuffed with books, "Well, except for that one… and that book… and that one but it is part of a series so it doesn't count… anyway, you must have plenty of stories to tell!" Judy turns back to Nick, "and I'd love to hear them!" A timer rings and Judy heads back into the kitchenette to remove the fish, setting it on the counter. "Do rabbits even eat fish?" Nick inquires, as Judy turns her head at him with confusion, "No, but our insides didn't change much- only our outsides- didn't you read the directions?" Nick shook his head no and Judy just rolled her eyes as she began to plate servings. "Can you get the card table out? It's folded against the wall." the rabbit asked, and Nick politely set it up.

Judy brought plates and utensils out and set then down on the table and sat in the chair as Nick sat on the couch. "Thanks a lot for the food and hospitality, it really means a lot in this place, I owe you a lot." Nick said, as he began to dig in. "Well… if you owe me a lot… and you want to pay me back… I may have a case for you… just a small one, teensy-tiny." Nick paused and asked, "Well, what are the details I guess?" Looking over her plate, Judy began to tell, "Every evening at the bar this light-skinned guy with a dark, kind-of unkempt beard enters the bar- doesn't order anything, doesn't talk to anyone- just takes a seat near a corner and watches the room- I want to know what he is up to, if anything- and obviously if I was to be the person following him it would look bad because no one likes bar servers to be too nosy but if it was you- well, it'd still look weird but less weird. I just want to know if he's planning to rob the place or something really." Nick considered it, fork in mouth, before replying, "Sounds easy enough, I'll do it- if you give me room and board tomorrow night too- obviously I can't look for a job if I'm following someone." The rabbit nodded and held her hand out, Nick taking it and shaking it. "Then I suppose that is what I will be doing tomorrow then." he remarked as the two finished dinner in peace.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick lit up another cigarette, flicking his finger to get the flame and then waving it to put it out. He had been hoping to make the pack last as long as possible but waiting was making him antsy- sometimes he felt it was the worst part of the business. The occasional life-threatening shootout he could handle, but waiting? Waiting gave him time to think, and he hated thinking too much. He was perched a fair ways away from the bar's entrance, hidden in the shadows of the metal structure surrounding him. His tail swayed tensely behind him- he had been lucky Judy was skilled with making alterations because he hadn't even thought about the fact his clothes weren't made for a tail- the only reason the pair of pants he wore after his initial transformation worked was because he had been wearing them awkwardly low and angled- not a very comfortable thing and impossible to work with in the event of a chase.

It felt like it had been hours since he started waiting on the unknown bearded man- even though it probably really hadn't been all that long. Before beginning his stakeout he had scouted the area a bit- checked the nooks and crannies- found a few small shops- food, pawn, gun, just the necessities really. He figured if he needed to bolt he could find an escape pretty easily, and if he needed to fight, well… he had his pistol loaded- but it was a simple tailing mission for a random bar crawler- it wasn't like he was extracting sensitive documents from the estate of a business magnate- this should be easy.

Finally Nick saw his quarry- and noticed the guy was a bit dirtier than he was picturing. He ditched the cig and waited for the man to start walking, and by fate's blessing he began to walk in the direction away from Nick. This would be a piece of cake. The fox started to slowly make his way in the same direction, keeping what distance he could from the bar itself so no loud-mouth drunk made him conspicuous by calling him out. Nick figured his new orange fur made him easier to spot so he felt he had to keep a greater distance between himself and his target, but at the same time he was finding it wasn't a huge burden on him to do so because his new vision was making it easier to see with the lighting turned low in the Rapture "night" (really the concept was just an excuse for the power provider to save money).

Eventually Nick's quarry lead him to the trickiest part of a tail in Rapture- a bathysphere- where it was going was clearly labeled but getting the timing right was always something of a gamble. The bathysphere was headed to Apollo Square- which made Nick wonder why a guy would bother moving from one slum to another just for a dive bar they don't drink or talk at. Nick hopped onto the next one, it pleasantly empty except for himself, and arrived just in time to see the bearded man turn a corner. Nick picked up the pace- afraid he might lose the guy, before reaching the turn and seeing the only place the guy could have gone.

Hestia Chambers- well, Fontaine's Home for the Poor before it's inevitably bought out- stood in front of Nick, and Nick had enough experience to realize he was going to face a problem. Tenement folks don't run their mouths- but they have eyes- and outsiders attract attention- especially furry orange outsiders. Still, Nick felt he had to press forward- just keep his head down, and his mouth shut, and things will be fine.

Nick headed in, but as he got to the main room he saw the man go through what appeared to be an employee only entrance- and before he could ponder on it he heard a gruff voice ask, "Hey, ya down on ya luck fox? Need a place to stay? Funny how luck can change right?" Nick turned and saw a built, hairy man attending a desk built into a wall- the main intake desk it looked like- as the man continued "One day ya livin' it up in Fort Frolic bein' a literal party animal- the next the boss cans ya 'cuz ya hit on his daughter and he didn't much appreciate it, something like that, right?" Nick, although taken by surprise, maintains his composure and responds "Actually I think this isn't where I was looking for- I was looking for a friend who said he was at one of the homes but wouldn't you know it I just remembered he said it wasn't at the one near Apollo Square- but thank you, and um, if I ever have a run of bad luck I will be back!" Honestly Nick knew he might very well end up there in just two more nights but he didn't want to admit that even to himself, so he certainly didn't want to admit it to this gentleman. He felt like there had to be some sort of catch to it all- it's one of the reasons why he didn't head to one right off the bat. The man just chuckled and said, "Well may fortune always find you, but if it doesn't, come back and ask for Don- I'm sure we can squeeze a fox in somewhere."

Nick left the premises unsatisfied. An apparent answer would be that the man worked for the Home as a sort of scout- keeping an eye out for individuals in need- but the fact he never says anything doesn't really fit the story. Besides, who doesn't know where to find Fontaine's Home for the Poor if they need it? Something felt off, and Nick decided that it might be a good time to deploy a staple plasmid of the private investigator profession. Slinking off to a side passage, Nick sat down and did his best to look inconspicuous and miserable- the type no one would bother- and as he slowed his breathing and stilled himself he began to blend into the shadows, becoming one with the environment as the Natural Camouflage tonic kicked into effect. He may have had to abandon most of what he had, but at least he still had his genes- and with that- all the abilities he had injected into himself during more prosperous times. He focused on leaving his body, standing up without physically standing up, and as soon as he did so his consciousness shifted out of his vulpine body, leaving it behind.

Nick re-entered the Home for the Poor, receiving no greeting even though the desk was still attended. The ghostly fox climbed over the desk right past the oblivious Home employee and entered the staff-only area. Nick was lucky at first- the layout seemed rather straightforward and the hallways were open so he didn't have to deal with the problem of closed doors, but it didn't take long before a choice in direction complicated things. Thinking quickly, Nick decided to try putting his new and improved sense of hearing to use, trying to determine which direction contained people- and he found a definite answer- to the right.

The immaterial fox went deeper into the structure, his vision starting to blur, when he came to a closed door that he was able to hear a conversation taking place behind. He listened intently, focusing on comprehending what was being said despite the acoustic distortion, and he was pleased to find his enhanced hearing was once again coming in handy. He heard two rough voices speaking to each other:

"Trust me, he'll be back soon…"

"Bullshit, you don't just decide when to hop out of a coma."

"But you can decide when to shoot lightning out of your hand? This is Rapture, the boss will wake up when he wants to- and I got it on good authority it'll be soon."

"You don't plan a stroke- I'm starting to think you've lost it…"

"Well if I have then why are you still part of this- using your thinking we ought to be heading over to Ryan Industries, hat in hand begging for work."

"I'm not saying that, I still believe in the operation- I'm just saying it's a bit out there to think Frank is still pulling the strings when he's been taking a months long nap… now I don't know if the new boss is just playing dumb or if someone else has taken the reigns but as far as I know the plan is still going forward- and so long as it is I'm going forward with it."

"Smart move, 'cuz jumping out of something while it's moving can be reeeaaal painful if you catch my drift…"

"Yeah yeah Leroy I get you, I'm not stupid believe it or not…"

Nick heard a radio turn on, Rapture News Network- really the only radio news network in the city- and he found that it drowned out any further conversation, but just as he was about to turn away from the door he heard:

"...and in breaking news we have just received a report that the industrial magnate Frank Fontaine, laid low by a stroke several months back, has just emerged from his coma! Doctors are cautiously optimistic that he will make a full recovery- but they do not expect him to be able to field a public appearance for still quite some time-"

With an enthusiastic, loud voice going over the radio one of the men said "What did I fuckin' say? What did I tell ya? I told ya he would be back and here he comes- never doubt me again Joey!"

"OK OK Leroy, you got people on the inside I get it, I won't question you in the future… still though… being able to plan coming out of a coma… Fontaine really does work on a different level…" and with that their voices died down again, sinking beneath the radio talk.

"...this news presenter has to wonder if having Dr. Suchong under contract at the time of the coma may have contributed to such a remarkable, unexpected recovery, but I am sure that will become clear in time. In other news, the plasmid market…"

Nick stepped away from the door, so the bearded man had something to do with Fontaine- some plan he had made before the coma and had just been going on without him because his underlings had no other orders… but what could it be? This warranted further investigation, but the investigator didn't think he would find much more information here at this front line operation- besides, he technically got what Judy wanted. He blinked, and was back in his furry body. The fox stood up and proceeded to head back to Copper Fields, it seemed he had a story tell, or at least the first chapter of one, but what the next page contained he could only wonder.


End file.
